When Fights Go Too Far
by The Lioness Lives
Summary: Peter never expected a battle to include seaweed, but with Alex, anything is possible.


**When Fights Go Too Far**

**AN: Hey! *Hides sheepishly* Sorry, I know I'm supposed to be writing Playing With Fire, but I just couldn't resist this little plot bunny. My muse got fed up with me when it came to that story, but I SHALL FINISH IT! It'll just take awhile. Yell at me if you want, it'll simply motivate me. No more "review/chapter" things anymore. You guys can review all you want on that story and it probably won't do thing. Sorry. I'm trying. Oh, yeah, review this story too.**

Something wet, slimy, and stinking of sea muck slapped onto my face, se3nding me reeling. I turned and glared at my attackers; Narnia's youngest monarchs and my little sister, failing to hide their laughter, were promptly nailed in the stomach.

I grinned evilly and turned towards Peter, who was standing a few feet away, with his back to me, talking to Susan. I hefted a wad of seaweed and lobbed it at him, hitting him squarely in the back. He whirled, saw me laughing at the expression on his face turned back to Susan, said something, then pulled off his boots. He started running towards me, scooping up his own bunch of deadly ammo. He threw it and I dodged. The seaweed, rather than hitting me, hit Edmund. He yelped and threw more at Lucy, as Peter charged at me.

Becca diverted my attention with a well-aimed clump of the stuff, and I turned around, about to fire my own missile, when I found myself rising off the ground, supported by unknown arms. I turned my head, already knowing who it was, as I was carried towards the waves. Peter's laughing face was right above me as he ran towards the surf. He splashed into the waves, kicking water in Ed's direction, and threw me into the ocean.

The sound of laughter, splashing, the happy shrieks of Lucy, and the indignant yelps of the boys were silenced in an instant as I was submerged. For a moment, all I saw was blue as the ocean, swirling above me, with thousands of tiny bubbles enveloping me. The effect was both ethereal and iridescent at the same time. Then I remembered that air is essential for survival, and surfaced, trying not to laugh.

I turned my head in time to see Ed shove sand down the back of Peter's shirt. Peter instantly threw Edmund into the sea, just as he'd done with me. Edmund came up, gasping for air and laughing in spite of himself. Lucy and Becca bombarded Peter with seaweed, forcing him to take cover, lest his shirt be completely destroyed, which would bring the wrath of his Faun valet, Veronil, down upon him.

Once, after Peter had been tripped up (on purpose, courtesy of me), and he'd come back up to Cair Paravel completely covered in dried mud (he had fallen into a conveniently large mud-hole that had the consistency of thick soup), Veronil, looking extraordinarily determined, had come down on Peter with a scrub brush and a bar of soap. When the Faun had finished, Peter told me that it was painful and dreadfully embarrassing. "To think," he'd said, "that I, High King Peter, the Magnificent, a Knight of Narnia, Commander-In-Chief No. 1 of the army (Edmund is Commander-In-Chief No. 2), among others, had to submit to a washing, like I was some little kid back in England, by a _Faun._" He said all this with a disgruntled look on his face, in that British accent of his. (What with me being an American and Peter being English, his accent always makes me smile, even though Becca and I are the minority of the minority in Narnia.)

Anyway, back to our little battle. Edmund and I sloshed back into shallower water in time to see Peter surrender to Lucy and Becca. The Sea Nymphs and the Mer-folk had come out to watch our fight, and all were smiling.

"Okay, okay, I give up. You win," Peter panted, holding up his hands to show that he was unarmed.

"Unconditional surrender it is!" Becca declared. "Truce?"

"Truce," Peter answered.

The five of us climbed up the shore towards Susan, who had stayed high and dry, watching our antics with interest.

Edmund shook his hair out like a dog, making sure to get Peter wet, though it made little difference, as we were all soaking, but he got the point across. Susan looked us up and down, trying to hide a smile. "Well, you're a sight, aren't you?"

"_Thanks_, Su," Ed said, wringing out his shirt. I knew that none of us would be dry until several hours had passed, but we didn't care, as it was a hot day, and we enjoyed coming into Cair Paravel wet, just to see the looks on whatever ambassador was visiting the Cair the day's face.

Ah, the joy of seaweed fights.

_Fin._

**AN: Sorry, again. Review!**


End file.
